


Blanket Forts (1&2)

by Tethys_resort



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Accidents, Bad Decisions, Bad Weather, Children, Cousins, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Family Reunions, M/M, Pillow & Blanket Forts, Rivendell | Imladris, Rivers, Tree Houses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:14:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22606093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tethys_resort/pseuds/Tethys_resort
Summary: Two stories with blanket forts.  One with a family vacation.  One with Glorfindel and Erestor being cute.  Actually, Glorfindel is cute in both of them....
Relationships: Elrond Peredhel & Erestor & Glorfindel, Erestor/Glorfindel (Tolkien)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 56





	1. The scribes spent a lot of time carefully ignoring Glorfindel lest they be commandeered for the building effort.

**Author's Note:**

> I meant to write ONE cute, squishy story about blanket forts, as smut, for Valentine's Day.... It took three tries. And I didn't have the heart to discard the first two. 
> 
> Trigger warnings: potential poor parenting, potential poor decision making, near drownings, really stupid accidents

Glorfindel smiled in satisfaction and crawled inside to admire his handiwork. 

It was the perfect snug blanket fort, adult elf sized. He curled up into a comfortable sprawl, all he needed to do now was wait for Erestor to get back. 

***

It had been a long, cold and wet day so far in a week of cold sleety days. Most of today had been spent checking on the last of the harvest tallies in the deep cliff storage areas of the Last Homely House and Imladris at large. Despite the wet it was all good news: the very last of the pumpkins and winter squash had been brought in before the sleet, the grain harvest was good this year and the orchards especially productive. 

Best of all, it was all safe and dry in the deep caverns. 

This was Imladris’ first year of true peace, and Erestor took his new job as Chief Advisor seriously. He had been on short rations too many times in his long life to take the meals represented for granted.

He was tired and shivering after a full day of the damp cold though. Dinner wasn’t for an hour yet, he would build up the fire a little in the administrative offices and finish up the last of the paperwork while seated on the hearth. 

The new state of the offices was a surprise. He stared at his bed quilt, draped over cushions and the carefully dismembered visitor couch. The remaining few scribes in the office were carefully ignoring the creation. His mate bond (and the Guard boots sitting carefully next to the entrance of the fort) told him clearly enough who had created the mess. He dropped the folders and his tablet board onto his desk and knelt down in the “doorway” of the new structure. “Glorfindel? Why did you build a blanket fort in the administrative offices?”

Glorfindel smiled back from his prone position. “The play group was building a giant maze of cushions and chairs downstairs and it looked like fun. Will you come in?” 

The “play group” was a small group of elflings of varying ages whose parents had been killed in the fall of Eregion and the ensuing War and for whom Elrond had not been able to locate living relatives. Finally at a loss, he had carefully selected willing foster parents in Imladris. The group met every few days to play, this time the weather had put them into the Hall of Fire, where they had been happily joined by the other elflings and a few children of Men in the Last Homely House. 

Erestor sat down in the “doorway” of the fort, untied his shoes and carefully lined them up next to Glorfindel’s before scooting in to sit next to his mate. It was warmer inside the shelter and Erestor sighed happily. 

“You’re cold.” Glorfindel sat up to pull Erestor up against his side and Erestor shut his eyes and allowed himself to sag against the warmth of his mate. 

“I thought it better to finish off the cave storage inventory in one day. Now I won’t have to spend that much time in there until next spring when we do the next inventory.” Truthfully, no matter how spacious or well-built the caverns are, Erestor feels a little as though he is being squashed by the foot of the mountains. Between the cushions and Glorfindel’s warm bulk he is the most comfortable he has been since he got up that morning. Even lunch had been spent in the caves with the scribes doing the tally. 

He was beginning to drift off into a nap when the outside of the fort started laughing. Elrond’s head appeared around the edge, peering in with a wide smile. “It’s been a long time since I made a blanket fort, can I join you?”

Glorfindel was broadcasting accepting amusement, so Erestor laughed back. “By all means, but you must bring a bribe for access.”

Elrond chuckled and said, “Just a moment, I’ve got just the thing.” 

His footsteps retreated and Erestor said down their bond, _“I kind of invited him without asking, is that okay?”_

_“I don’t mind, love. Elrond has been moping for two weeks ever since Celebrian went home, he could use some company.”_ Glorfindel still sounded happy and relaxed.

Erestor said, _“True. I only hope she and Galadriel made it far enough south that most of this storm missed them traveling. Riding in this weather is miserable.”_

Elrond had come back. He sat down in Erestor’s chair to peer in. “Oh Lord Erestor and Lord Glorfindel of the Administrative Offices Blanket Fort, I bring tribute in hopes of being allowed to enter. Behold, I carry lap blankets and food supplies.” 

“You spent time in the Hall of Fire this afternoon?” Erestor beckoned him in, Glorfindel was laughing at Elrond’s speech.

Elrond passed him the blankets and a kitchen basket. “I am the Lord of Imladris and a healer. I have to make sure the elflings are doing well in their new homes.” He took off his shoes and crawled in, pulling a blanket over his lap. “I remember doing this with Ada and Adar, they used to bring sandwiches and tell stories.”

“It’s been literal Ages since I’ve done this. Erestor, did you ever build blanket forts?” Glorfindel was putting the other two lap blankets to good use and wrapping one around Erestor before draping another over both of them. 

Erestor frowned. “No. It seemed like a waste of time and energy when we already lived in a fortress.”

“Really? What a waste.” Glorfindel grinned. “Shall I tell a story? What story would you like to hear?”

Elrond opened the basket to reveal a stoppered carafe of mulled wine, mugs and a plate of cookies. “Something from your childhood? If you don’t mind?” 

Glorfindel thought about Elrond standing and wistfully watching Celebrian ride away with Galadriel and their guards, and smiled. 

***

It was about the time that the little raft of debris hit the rapids that Laurefindil decided that his cousin Artanis had the worst ideas ever. He hung on grimly to the side of the platform as he was dragged through the water. He smacked into yet another rock and hoped that he wouldn’t drown. 

Come to think of it, he hopes Findarato can swim. He had been the first to fall off, having been standing up when the platform broke out of the tree abruptly. Typically, Irisse was bouncing up and down on the unstable surface yelling. 

He thought Artanis was somewhere in the water with him. And he thought he might hate “family vacations”.

Later, Glorfindel would know that the Valar were desperately trying different things to heal the rifts in Noldor society by promoting socialization between all the different noble families. Lots of little house parties were arranged to that end. This time Feanor, Findis, Nolofinwe and Arafinwe had all been invited to bring their offspring to Ingwe’s Taniquetil estate to spend some time together with Ingwe’s numerous grandchildren and great grandchildren. Feanor had entirely dismissed the invitation but Findis, Nolofinwe and Arafinwe had decided to give the idea a try. 

It wasn’t the first time Laurefindil had met his cousins. In fact, Aunt Findis, her mate, and those cousins lived only a few miles from him in Valmar. All the rest showed up on a regular basis at the same parties for Yule, Summer Beginning and Harvest.

This was the first time he had spent more than about eight hours with them though and he was beginning to think the entire adventure was a mistake..

The previous day, the first day of the visit to Ingwe’s estate, featured several fist fights as the elflings got on each other’s nerves. Today had started with all the children still circling around each other and trying to decide what games to play. The older cousins and all the parents, including his big sister Lawadis, had departed on a several day trip to tour the gardens and forests around the base of Taniquetil. 

The younger cousins were left with Ingwe, who had retired to his office for work that wouldn’t wait. 

(Glorfindel now thought it had probably been an excuse to force the younger cousins, who varied in age from about 90 to 20 years of age, to make friends without him.)

Laurefindil, the same age as Artanis and Irisse, was among those left behind.

“We should build a fort in the trees. I have chosen the perfect tree.” Disregarding Findarato’s offer to just pick her up, Artanis had pushed a stool over and climbed up on the breakfast table to see over the cousins and make the announcement. 

Somehow, chivvying and pushing she got all the elflings out to the great trees at the edge of the yard next to the river. She pointed up, “That spot there. We can even hang a rope swing on the side.”

The fort idea was a good one, and the elflings spent the day planning and arguing about what it should look like and what rules the tree fort should have. “No adults allowed,” was on the list, but no one could agree if Findarato and Turukano were adults. Findarato announced that he would build his own platform on a tree across from them. Turukano sighed wearily and brought a book out to read in the shade of the trees. 

Ingwe told them they could use the scrap lumber in the side yard and tools from the work shed if they put them back when done. He also warned them to be careful to stay out of the river.

By the end of the day they had the first platforms in the trees. 

Ingwe pronounced the forts “wonderful” when he came to call them all in for dinner and they chattered happily through dinner about finishing it with a roof the next day. 

The next day though, Artanis said, “Why don’t we make more platforms?” She gestured up at the giant side branches that spiraled away from the main trunk. “We could make it so we can all have rooms of our own.”

So building continued. Turukano moved himself onto Findarato’s platform, and continued reading. Findarato contented himself with adding a group of rope swings and ladders and announcing, “EVERYONE is welcome to play in my fort, when I finish it I am inviting Grandfather for tea.” 

That induced another spate of building and rope swings and ladders were added to the rapidly growing colony of small platforms. 

By the end of the day, Findarato, Artanis and Irisse were yelling at each other from their separate platforms. Laurefindil decided to try and take a nap on a tiny, more peaceful platform they had built far out on the end of a limb over the river. He was sprawled out admiring the patterns of the leaves against the sky when Irisse shrieked and ran out along the branch above him to land with a thud on his platform. She did a little dance and shrieked, “I dare you to say that again Nerwen!”

Artanis yelled back, “Don’t call me that!” She stormed down the other branch toward Irisse.

Laurefindil sighed, it had been only a matter of time before strong willed Artanis clashed with equally strong willed Irisse again. He just hoped they didn’t decide to have another fist fight while on his platform. All the other cousins had quieted to watch the show. 

Artanis got to the platform, eyes dangerous narrowed. Irisse sneered, “Nerwen – just like a boy.”

“Take that back!” Artanis punched Irisse in the face. Irisse grabbed a hank of Artanis’ silvery gold hair and yanked hard. Laurefindil sighed, he suspects that the appropriate action is to try and break up the fight. He really doesn’t want to: they both fight mean. 

He started to get up but Findarato yelled, “Hey, cut that out. Irisse, you know she doesn’t like being called that.”

Letting go of Artanis’ hair, Irisse turned and yelled back, “And your name sucks too!”

“Hey!” Turukano had finally looked up from his book. “Irisse, cut it out or I’m taking you in to Grandfather.”

Irisse stomped. “Make me.” 

“Fine, I will.” Findarato grabbed a rope and prepared to swing over. Laurefindil wished that there was another way off the platform rather than through them. 

As Turukano yelled, “Ah, Fin! Don’t add to this!” Findarato swung over and landed with a heavy thud on the platform. Which crumpled and fell out of the tree, all four elflings still aboard. 

They crashed through the smaller limbs of the tree and hit the water of the river with a giant splash and Laurefindil found himself hanging onto part of the platform, Irisse still sprawled on top. 

Irisse quickly climbed to her feet, and disregarding her location shrieked, “Findarato, you broke our tree house!”

While that part of the river was a swift flat pool, the next section was rapids and Laurefindil was quickly occupied in trying not to hit rocks. Irisse was knocked off her feet and clung tight to the top, coughing as waves washed into her face. Laurefindil gasped and choked as he bounced off a log and his head went under. He frantically hoped that they had a chance to climb out before they drowned. 

It was a shock when a hand grabbed him by the tunic and pulled him out of the water. “Here,” Ingwe yelled to Turukano standing in the shallower water “I’m grabbing the noisy one next.” He threw Laurefindil bodily to Turukano, who after catching him neatly, dropped him in a heap on the bank. 

Turukano glanced at him before going back to watching his great grandfather. “If you are going to throw up, don’t do it on me.”

Ingwe had managed to snag the debris raft and pull it back around to his stable footing. He grabbed Irisse off the top and flung her unceremoniously at her older brother. He caught her and dropped her next to Laurefindil. 

The household had been alerted by the yelling and gardeners were running their way with poles and ropes.

Ingwe was yelling instructions at the last two elflings. Findarato had managed to grab Artanis and the two were wedged slightly out of the water against a slippery rock in the middle of the rapids. Finally, Findarato scuffled into a position to drag Artanis into a vicious water chute mostly free of rocks. He ignored her screaming and pitched her feet first down the chute. She rattled down the rocks and Ingwe grabbed her and flung her at Turukano. She was deposited in the soggy line of elflings. 

That only left Findarato. He tried to take the chute too, but his larger body hit the rocks wrong and tipped him head first into a pool, the water that pushed Artanis across the top shoved him down and held him under. Ingwe quickly climbed up a rock and jumped into the pool, allowing the water to push him down as well. 

Laurefindil held his breath, terrified for his grandfather and Findarato both. The other cousins had made it out of the tree upstream and were lined up above on bank silently watching and crying. 

Several moments passed and Ingwe resurfaced farther downstream and started swimming toward the bank, towing a limp Findarato behind him. He dropped the elfling on the bank unceremoniously and collapsed next to him, gasping. As the Head Gardener grabbed Findarato to administer medical aid, he choked and moved. The gardener turned him over in time for him to start throwing up the river. 

A few hours later, Laurefindil stood in a line with Findarato, Turukano, Irisse and Artanis. 

Ingwe had hugged and kissed them all. They had been wrapped in dry towels and carried to the bathhouse for warm baths. They had all been checked over by the healer and given herbal teas. They all had scrapes and bruises but nothing worse. Fortunately, the healer proclaimed Findarato undamaged by his near drowning. 

Ingwe stared down at them. “You are very fortunate that I was just walking out to see how the fort was coming.” He heaved a sigh. “Findarato, Irisse, Artanis. You will spend the next two days helping the gardeners since you cannot play without starting an argument. Findarato, as more than old enough to keep your temper you shall get to explain to all of your parents what happened when they return.”

Laurefindil waited with Turukano to hear what their punishments would be. But Ingwe sighed again and said, “I am so glad that none of you are dead. You frightened me badly. Come now, let’s rejoin your cousins and I’ll read you all a story.” 

***

Elrond, Erestor and Glorfindel had polished off the cookies and mulled wine during the story. Erestor had relaxed back so that he was sprawled into Glorfindel’s lap and Elrond was stretched out full length across the fort under a blanket, looking relaxed and completely happy for the first time since Celebrian’s departure.

Glorfindel smiled at the sight. He worries about Elrond and Erestor sometimes, running Imladris is a large job. Being Seneschal is a large job too, but at least it has a defined job description (most of the time) and unlike them, he isn’t shorthanded.

Erestor shifted to snuggle a little closer to Glorfindel. “That’s why you inspected the _talan_ platforms so closely when we stayed in the Golden Wood?”

As the dinner bell rang, Elrond chuckled slightly and said, “Something tells me I shouldn’t ask Lady Galadriel about this one.”

Elrond pulled himself up again and climbed out to put his shoes back on. Erestor blinked sleepily at Glorfindel for a moment before sitting up to do the same. Down their bond he said, _“That was fun. I think I like blanket forts… Let’s build one in our room tonight?”_

Glorfindel sent back a feeling of happy approval and started putting on his shoes. 

He remembers standing at the edge of an icy bay on the edge of the world. Nearby, Irisse and Artanis had stood side by side watching the faint cloud glow from the Boats burning on the far side of the Sea. 

Artanis turned to Irisse. “We are betrayed.” There was fury in the cold expression.

Irisse nodded, her blank face was obviously covering tears. “Then we must cross the Ice.”

Artanis reached out a hand, and Irisse took it. 


	2. In which I tried again to write smut for Valentine’s Day and failed utterly.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I did get closer this time though...

The rest in the blanket fort in the administrative offices had been fun, but after dinner Erestor admitted that he had to finish up the last of his paperwork for the harvest inventory before they could slip away for the night.

Glorfindel watched his mate trot off and sighed, at least he had managed to make sure that Lord Elrond and his mate had a pleasant afternoon break. They work hard and he is pretty sure there should be more Council members and more scribes to help them. Glorfindel, at least, is fully staffed and has the full Guard and more trainees to help secure the brand new settlement built on top of their refugee camp.

Even if being the Seneschal has occasionally turned out to be a truly bizarre job. 

He doesn’t remember Gondolin being this full of chaos. But then, he was in charge of a military unit and House there, not maintaining peace in the city. He doesn’t remember so many odd things happening in the House of the Golden Flower either, but now strongly suspects he was oblivious: it’s not like the nature of elves in general have changed.

King Gil-galad had said something about sending more personnel to help establish Imladris, so hopefully Spring would see them all a little better organized. 

In the meantime, Glorfindel has another fort to build. 

***

Rested, fed and with an enjoyable evening to look forward to, Erestor finished the last of the paperwork quickly.

The halls were almost empty but it was early enough that most elves would be in what had been dubbed the Hall of Fire, listening to a storyteller, or maybe Lindir with his minstrels. The sleet was finally turning to pure snow, by tomorrow morning Imladris would most likely have its first coat of fresh snow for the year.

His room was quiet and the lamps out when he came in. Erestor smiled at the just-freshened fire behind its spark guard and the large lump of quilt structure in front of it. Elrond has promised and Erestor has been working on the plans for a whole series of suites in a “family wing” but right now it is a luxury to have a drafty room to themselves and a water closet down the hall. 

He grabbed his basket of toiletries and tiptoed out again. 

When he came back, he set his shoes next Glorfindel’s boots at the door and went around to the front of the heap of cushions and blankets. As promised and expected, there was his mate: sprawled naked under a blanket, peacefully watching the fire. The firelight reflected off him, adding more gold highlights to the simple braid and tinting his skin gold to match.

Glorfindel smiled up at him and said, “Join me?”

It was warmer inside the fort, and Erestor wondered if they should just leave it up and sleep in it all winter. He slid over their sheets and what felt like their mattress compressed under his knees as he sat down next to their pillows. “How much of the bed did you leave behind?”

Glorfindel curled to a better position to stare up and smiled. “Not much, we have that little table and its chairs making the frame but a definite lack of anything cushion-like to lie on. I hadn’t thought about the fact that we haven’t a couch.” He huffed a laugh. “I was just thinking tomorrow we should put the window drapes around the bed and sleep in a tent all winter.”

Erestor visualized a bed with curtains and started to laugh, it sounded ridiculous. “You do realize that we are elves and not supposed to feel the cold.”

“My feet get cold. They were cold all the way across the Grinding Ice and every winter in Gondolin.” He sat up and with long familiarity unplucked the sash holding Erestor’s robes closed. Erestor arched back and shifted so that the robe was peeled away before pulling off socks and outer tunic. He slid under the blanket wearing the rest. 

Glorfindel’s hands gently slid down the back of Erestor’s leggings. Still tied, the leggings didn’t move. Erestor grumbled slightly and plucked at the ties so that Glorfindel could push them down enough to be kicked off. Done with leggings, he slid his hands up Erestor’s ribs and Erestor lifted his arms to allow the tunic to be stripped off and tossed into a heap with the robe. 

The chill of exposed skin was quickly remedied as Glorfindel shifted to cuddle them together under the blanket. Both sighed happily. Erestor pulled their heads together, carding through Glorfindel’s hair and massaging his scalp while kneading the nape of his neck with the other. Glorfindel went limp in bliss at the attention. 

As Erestor gathered a handful of hair and pulled gently to relax the tight muscles he can feel, Glorfindel moaned happily. His eyes were shut as Erestor whispered, “You are tired and stressed. Maybe I should ask what happened today that sent you off to making blanket forts in the administrative offices?” 

Glorfindel is (among other things) very smart, creative, and occasionally whimsical, traits that make him both an entertaining mate and a prime military commander. But usually not quite that whimsical. 

Through their bond and under his fingers, Erestor can feel tight muscles and a stiff neck. Somehow today had not been easy on Glorfindel. The blue eyes opened again as Erestor switched to massaging his shoulders. “Do you think Gil-galad has any instruction books on being Seneschal? So far it is a weird job.”

“Weird?” Erestor and Glorfindel both had expected the expansion of Imladris from refugee camp under siege to true city to be rocky at times, but ‘weird’ was a new job description. “Today was weird?”

Glorfindel heaved a sigh. “I’ve got patrols in town in addition to the border and safety patrols, but I’m not sure that the Guard has the right training. Today I was called – urgently I might add- to retrieve a Guard patrol leader from the middle of a wheel.”

“A wheel?” Erestor wondered if he had misunderstood.

“A wagon wheel. Apparently it started with a minor dispute over a blocked drive. They all insisted that there was no real argument and that the Guard patrol had been simply called over as an impartial judge for the issue. But no matter how they explained, none of them made sense when it got to the part for how Lorn ended up lodged between the spokes of a wagon wheel on a stationary wagon.”

Erestor was feeling baffled too. “Why didn’t he just climb out?”

Glorfindel looked pained. “He was really, really stuck. I had to use my authority as Seneschal of Imladris and Captain of the Guard to allow them to let me use a saw on the spokes. It was the miller’s cart, so it had big iron wheels to carry the load. The whole stupidity took hours standing out in the sleet. I took the whole patrol, the miller and the homeowners to the bathhouses after because they looked like a bunch of icicles.” He breathed out and he looked less grim and more amused. “I also left Elrond a full report on his desk, explaining why the House of Elrond needs to reimburse the miller for the repair or replacement of a wheel.”

Erestor visualized the Lorn: a somewhat grumpy, very old Feanorian Guard who had been born in the Light of the Trees and spent the War in Elrond’s battle and bodyguard group, and started to giggle helplessly. 

At the laughter, Glorfindel grinned. “Of course, the true punishment might be that Lorn will probably end up explaining to Elrond too.”

They lay together and laughed. 

As the humor tapered off a little, Erestor kissed Glorfindel and said, “I don’t think that any book Gil-galad owns is going to explain that sort of problem.” He pulled Glorfindel closer. 

Glorfindel leaned forward to put a long lick up Erestor’s neck and nibble at an ear. The nibble turned into a nip, making Erestor jerk at the slight sting that was immediately kissed away. Erestor shifted to kiss Glorfindel on the mouth and ran his hands over his rump, fingers flexing over the muscles. Glorfindel grinned.

“Such an impatient mate. I build a perfectly good blanket fort and then wait and wait. And then you want this as fast as possible.” Glorfindel laughed and rolled, wrapping his arms around Erestor’s body and pinning him into the mattress. He kissed the muscles between Erestor’s neck and shoulder. “I think I should take you very slowly tonight.”

Erestor happily squirmed under the heavy body on top of him, fast or slow, either was fine with him. “I have our oil somewhere in here,” Glorfindel muttered against his lips as his hands roved down Erestor’s sides. 

He lurched upright to look for it and cracked his head on the balanced chair. Erestor felt Glorfindel’s mental yelp as his head hit wood, then both jumped as the chair pulled the other over with a crunch. They lay still as the quilt settled down on them.

Erestor said, “I think this might be a downside to blanket forts.” Glorfindel was radiating amusement but not moving, so he wiggled out from under him and tried to climb out the doorway to the collapsed fort. His arm motions pulled the quilt and chairs in scraping noises but he couldn’t find the edge. 

There was a thump as Glorfindel pushed one of their chairs right off the mattress with his feet. The table rotated from side to top with a crash and the other chair slithered sideways onto Erestor. Erestor shoved at the chair ineffectually and said, “Why does the quilt not just come off? Don’t tell me you tied this whole mess together?”

There was an awkward pause before Glorfindel said, “Yes… The quilt wasn’t staying put up there with only two chairs and that little round table. I think if we both push the chairs toward the hall door side we can just move the top off and try again.”

Erestor decided to stay flat and still as Glorfindel illustrated his point. 

The second chair seemed firmly lodged as Glorfindel pushed at it though and Erestor decided to help by putting both feet on a table leg and shoving in the direction he thought was door-ward. The table didn’t move, but the chair abruptly came loose with the sound of ripping quilt and a thud as it rotated and flopped onto its side on Glorfindel. 

They froze.

Glorfindel said, “Umm….”

Erestor snickered and took a deep breath. “That was our bed quilt.”

“It is most likely still our bed quilt, there’s just two of it now.” Glorfindel’s voice was muffled by the chair holding the quilt onto his head. 

“Ripping it in half doesn’t increase the amount of quilt.”

Glorfindel got his legs pulled up to his chest and with a massive heave propelled the quilt, table and chair bundle toward the other chair. It landed with a crash, leaving them sprawled naked and exposed to the cold air of the bedroom. 

Erestor rolled off the mattress and walked over to the pile stranded halfway to the hall door. He shivered as he examined it. “Did you actually use twine in this project? The chairs are still attached to the quilt.”

Glorfindel sat up to look for their sheets and blankets again. “I tied bows, finding the end should be easy enough.”

Erestor flipped the table upright again, with the furniture upright it was easier to find the knots. He shook the quilt out, it looked like the rip would be repairable. As he settled the quilt onto the mattress, Glorfindel moved their table and chairs back to their usual position. 

It didn’t take long but they were chilled and shivering by the time they slid under their blankets again. Glorfindel immediately tucked Erestor into his arms and rolled, wrapping the blankets and quilt around them into a cocoon. Mission accomplished, he kissed the top of Erestor’s head and settled.

As Erestor warmed up and relaxed he noticed that Glorfindel had, as usual, positioned them to stare into the flames. Erestor had watched this habit for years. At first, before they were bonded, he had worried, thinking that perhaps Glorfindel was reliving memories of the Balrog. But his mate was always happy as he watched the flames. 

“Glorfindel?” He reached down the mate bond just a little.

Glorfindel reacted by opening their bond much wider and pulling Erestor as close as possible mentally. “Hmm?” 

There was nothing of distress, so Erestor finally asked his question. “Do you like to watch the fire?”

There was a wave of amusement. “You mean, does it remind me of Gondolin?” 

“Or the Balrog? You always stare into the fire like it is going to get away.”

Glorfindel’s mouth turned up in a slight smile as he sent Erestor the memory of a little fire on a rock in the snow. Elves were huddled around on blankets, singing. Erestor didn’t recognize any of the faces but everyone was smiling. Some fish were being cooked on skewers. Occasionally a small piece of kindling was added and elves laughed as the sparks winked out against the black sky.

“There was nothing to burn on the Ice. We had Feanorian lamps for light, but they didn’t provide warmth.” He pulled Erestor closer and kissed him again. “Finally reaching a place with enough wood to build a fire felt like a miracle. We were finally off the Ice and in Middle Earth. I refuse to let the Balrog make that memory bad.”


End file.
